Why We Fight
by ladyshalott
Summary: Cordelia and Wesley bond, and get something off thier chests.


**Title: Why We Fight **

**Author: Lady Shalott**

**Rating: G**

**Category: Early Season 3**

**Content: C/W friendship**

**Summary: Cordy and Wes bond… and get a little something off their chests.**

**Spoilers: Only if you haven't ever, seen ANY Angel.  
Disclaimer: The characters in the Angelverse were created by Joss Whedon & David Greenwalt. No infringement is intended, no profit is made.**

**Notes: So all of a sudden I got the overpowering urge to do something Cordy/Wes centric. I still miss Wes. This isn't really a pairing piece, since I don't consider them to be romantic at all, but I am certain that Cordelia and Wesley truly do (did) love each other.**

The moon was full and LA reflected off the clouds. Add that to the hanging lamps, and the Hyperion courtyard at night was the perfect place to sit and read. Wesley hummed a little as he stirred his Earl Grey, then gathered up his newly-acquired Latham's Guide to Fourteenth Century Swamp Demons, Abridged. He continued humming as he made his way outside, then stopped upon realizing someone was already sitting on his favorite bench.

His uncertain shuffling caused the other to turn, and Cordelia flashed him her million-watt smile. "Wes, hey. Were you coming out to bore me to death with one of your tomes? Because if so, how about I save you the trouble and throw myself in front of that Yzebbe demon Angel and Gunn are fighting right now?"

"Ha, ha." Wesley made up his mind and sat next to her. "Cordelia, how could I ever make it through a day without your witty and thoughtful aphorisms?"

Cordelia shrugged. "You could get a parrot."

Unsure if the remark was meant to be self-depreciating or not, Wes lapsed into silence. He had just opened the first page of Latham's when Cordelia spoke again. Her voice this time was thoughtful, and the question prompted him to put both book and tea to the ground.

"Wes, why do you fight?"

He looked at her, out of the corner of his eye but Cordelia was not looking at him. Instead she had her face turned to the sky as if she were counting the nigh invisible stars. Wesley waited a moment, watching her, then looked at the sky himself.

"I fight… because I can."

Turning to him, Cordelia was quiet for a moment, then sighed. "Fighting is done on many fronts, isn't it."

Since her words were a statement, Wes didn't answer. After a moment his silence paid off.

"Angel, and Gunn, are able to fight with their strength. They use fists and weapons to crush in every sense of the word. Their fighting makes a difference, there and then."

"Fred, her fighting is over the power that fear gives. With every movement she takes, every step outdoors, she is vanquishing fear and giving it less hold in her life and in the lives of others."

"Wes, you are able to fight with your mind. Without your battles, Angel and Gunn would be soldiers heading into war armed with water guns."

Wesley chuckled a bit at that.

Cordelia did not seem to notice. She continued. "What I don't understand… is why."

So he strove to clarify things. "When I was accepted into the Watcher's Council I was given tools. Things that I could use to protect those who were innocent. My books, and my knowledge may seem like pointless pursuits to most observers but when I am able to pinpoint a demon or the exact nature of some other evil, then I have fought a battle and won."

"You were right when you called this war, Cordelia. The enemy forces are great and our side, unfortunately, is severely outnumbered. So I fight because I can, in a world where many will die as the unfortunate casualties of a holocaust they do not even know exists."

"The battle lines are drawn in blood, mine among others. I fight, and I will die, because it is right. Because without me at the front, those who fall behind will be slaughtered. That would be a sin unforgivable."

A tear rolled down Cordelia's cheek. Wesley dug out his handkerchief and passed it over. "Cordelia", he asked in a voice hoarse with unshed tears, "Why do you fight?"

Her answer was simple yet complex. Something she was very, very good at.

"I fight for love."

In those four words, Wesley was able to hear everything that she sometimes wouldn't say. Love was more than what she may or may not feel for any one person in particular. She fought because love was the thing that gave her meaning. She suffered the pain of the visions that saved them, because she loved them. Her comrades, her friends. Herself; the pride she took in making her life mean something. An all encompassing love for the innocents, those unfortunate casualties Wes had spoken of before.

Love in all its forms.

Wesley looked at her. With the moon and LA reflecting on her face, for a moment it seemed like she might truly be a child-like god.

Cordelia spoke, and Wes found himself holding his breath in anticipation of her next words.

"Wes, do you remember the time we kissed?"

Caught off-guard, Wes nearly tripped. Hard to do, since he was sitting down.

"Which time?"

She smiled, slightly. "Choose one."

He thought a moment. "Yes."

Cordelia turned and looked at him. "I enjoyed it."

Wesley looked at Cordelia. An easy smile rested on her lips and tear tracks caught the light from above, tracing her twin paths of pain and love.

He stood, gathered his book and his now tepid tea. He balanced them precariously as he leaned and put one hand on her cheek. Cordelia leaned into it slightly, accepting the strength Wesley offered. As he moved away, Wes called back to her.

"I enjoyed it, too."

He didn't look to see, but at that moment Wesley was pretty sure the stars came out.


End file.
